


Infinity War: A Wilting Rose

by TCOOKIES777



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, James Rogers - Freeform, Pregnancy, capwidow - Freeform, infinity war theory, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 15:13:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14499771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCOOKIES777/pseuds/TCOOKIES777
Summary: Based off the Infinity War theory that Natasha is pregnant with Steve’s baby, James Rogers.The first thing Natasha hears under her obsidian cage is the resounding crack of fingers snapping together. It echoes in her ears, across the vibrant land, and throughout the entire universe, shaking her down to the marrow of her bones. Natasha’s first thought is Steve… and then the child in her womb. Her flight or fight response kicks in and she tears at her stoned restraints. Panic, fear, and something cold seeped into the fiber of her soul. Something was coming. And no one would be safe.





	Infinity War: A Wilting Rose

**Author's Note:**

> First, I'd like to say that I don't actually buy into this theory but I thought it would be interesting to write about and I desperately needed to write an Infinity War fanfic after seeing the movie.
> 
> Secondly, I am equally **both** a Romanogers and a BuckyNat shipper. Again, I just wanted to try writing this fic.

            The brisk air of the forest pops and fizzes with organic energy. It is charged with raw, anonymous power that sets Natasha’s jaw in a tight clench. What lively sounds of fighting with blasters blazing and Vibranium clashing are now nothing more than a faint ambiance this deep into the foliage. Yet, the battle is far from over.

            Steve.

            Where are you?

            She can’t see him. She cannot see anyone under the layer of rock Thanos has entrapped her in. Stone walls close tightly all around her, pinning Natasha down onto fresh, forest soil. Okoye, Rhodey, and James Barnes had been knocked aside as if they were nothing more than bowling pins.

            And Steve…

            “Steve…” Natasha croaks out under the slab of stone. No one responds. Not even the call of the local animals sings back to her, for they had fled long ago.

            All she hears is the familiar hissing sound of Wanda’s powers at work. A high pitch whining of desperate power clawing at the partner that is centered within Vision’s forehead. One half fighting to destroy its only equal. The hair on Nat’s neck is raised in reaction to how electrified the entire area is. So much unversed power focused in a single place. Enough to kill them all and crumple the whole universe.

            “Come on, Wanda…” Natasha speaks through gritted teeth, tasting a tangy mix of alien blood and her own. She strains her head to see just around the bend of trees but the verdure is too thick and she can only hope for some sliver of success. Please, please, please, please.

            But the heavy thumps of the Mad Titan’s steps continue. Slow and steady, farther from her and closer to Vision. And with every step Natasha hears, every time the ground trembles against her bruised cheek, she chokes on the fear clawing up her throat. The dismay of the knowledge that the threat of Thanos is inevitable. That no matter how much time they try to buy, it will never be enough. And that not even the Scarlet Witch could stop the Mad Titan.

            So, Natasha shouts again. Her voice is louder this time but it cracks at the one name she calls. “Steve!”

            And she isn’t sure whether to be relieved or horrified when she glimpses a familiar navy figure dash right by her. He has answered her plea. Of course, he would. Steve Rogers would fight all day long if needed. Yet, the Black Widow feared that even Captain America would lose this fight. Years ago, they had banded together to fight off an invasion of Chitauri aliens. Those had been nothing but fodder. Pawns of a greater game they all had been dragged into. It was all too clear now; destiny had greater plans for them than she could ever imagine. Now, Natasha could do nothing but watch as the man she has come to love and trust run off to fight a being who sought to become more than a god. A mortal versus a maker.

            The sky remains ever blue and bright. Like his eyes and how he gazed at the world with such whole-hearted sincerity. The open expanse looks so innocent compared to the bloodbath and carnage just beneath, painting the lush land of Wakanda in shades of blue and red. A chorus of ferocity and belligerence sings out in screams and war cries all around. As if the entire world is on its final stand, struggling for one last breath against the tempest choking all life out.

            “Sam? General Okoye! … Rhodey!” Natasha twists her body this way and that, struggling to escape the obsidian confines. Sweat and blue blood stain her suit but it does nothing to help her slip out. Claustrophobia had never been a concern until now, when she finds herself desperately seeking to be at Steve’s side, fighting alongside him and into the jaws of death. “Can anyone hear me?! Steve is—”

            A low roar resonates beyond the corner. Strained and tight, but full of determination and willpower. And Natasha recognizes who it is, feeling her heart slam in her chest out of apprehension. It leaves her gut wrenching in discomfort. Like the queasy, twisting feeling one suffers right before a bout of vomit rises. Except nothing comes out but a hot breath of mortification slipping from chapped lips. _No, oh god, please don’t. Please, Steve, plea_ —the roar quickly rises in pitch into a near defiant scream and it holds for a few seconds until the sound of flesh pounding into flesh abruptly cuts him off.

            “No...” Natasha whispers, agony tightening her chest. No, he has to be alive.

            He has to be alive because, if not, then.. they were all going to die.

            “No!” Aching fists pound away at her obsidian coffin. Raw skin scrapes against stone and chipped nails tear at the large boulders. Yet, no pain can ever match the pain that would strike Natasha down if she were to come upon Steve’s body. Strong and now broken. Sincere, and forever frozen in time.

            Wanda. She needs to help Wanda. If Steve is down then no one else can help Wanda and Vision.

            Taking a sharp intake of breath, Natasha pushes with all her might at the stone walls. Her breath holds tight in her chest, stuck in her throat as she heaves and shoves until her face is splotched a rosy red with grievance and resignation. Nothing. Strength alone wouldn’t budge stone but perhaps if she found a weak point like the fulcrum… There! A thick branch wedged in the corner between two slabs of stone. A sharp, firm yank might just be enough to throw the structure off balance. She needs to be quick, however, in order to not get crushed.

            Time is running out.

            Just as Natasha wraps her hand around the scratchy bark, she hears it. Power breaking into pieces and disappearing into nothing. Like glass shattering into a million fragments, only it holds the power of every star in the universe, and more. It blasts through the trees in a golden yellow that fades into the background like a sunset, making the trees bow obediently before the pure power for a split second. Her ears ring almost painfully at the hot wave of energy but Natasha barely registers it. Wanda had done it. She had succeeded in destroying the Soul Stone and, now, Thanos would be left with only five Infinity Stones. And for that, Vision had paid the price with—

            The trees sway once more as that same fading ray of gold brushes right through Natasha, being drawn back into its former container. As if time had just been…

            “NO!” Wanda screams out brokenly somewhere around the corner and then there is a faint thud of a body hitting the ground. A sound Natasha knows all too well in all her years on the field. Yet, it always meant the defeat of an enemy. Now, it is a sign of _their_ defeat.

            It is silent for a few more seconds until Natasha feels a faint charge of electricity in the air. The signature crack of thunder follows a flash of light that briefly lights up the shady forest. Another whine of power clashes with the sound of godly thunder, causing the ground to rumble and the soil to shake between pebbles. It feels like the coming of a great earthquake but Natasha knows better.

            _Thor!_

            An agonized moan starts, loud and full of ire, and Natasha hopes it is not her Asgardian friend who is in pain.

            “Steve?” She speaks again through her comms. _Please_ , she begs to herself. She needs him to be alive.

            They have been through so much together over the past years. Who knew a Russian spy would ever fall in love with America’s golden boy? And Natasha had never expected that he would ever love her back just as much. Yet, it had happened somewhere down the line. At first, the Black Widow mistook these feelings for affection, or something to fill the loneliness no one—not even Clint—could ever fill. Sam, of course, had caught on quicker than either of them and even encouraged it. Even Steve had known that his feelings were of love shortly before Natasha herself did. And he had patiently waited for her to take the first step. For her to be the one to grant permission. Ever the gentleman he was.

            Steve Rogers could grow a beard and tear the stars off his uniform. He could fight aliens and oppressors all the livelong day and he would still take the time to help the old lady across the street. Always the fighter, and always a gentleman. A good man at heart. Her Steve Rogers.

            Which is why Natasha cannot bear to lose him. Because the world needs a good man like Captain America. Captain America, the superhero. Captain America, the man frozen in time. But Steve Rogers? That is who Natasha Romanoff needs the most. Not the American hero but the man behind the shield. Not the man who could fight all day—but the man who _would_ fight all day. She needed him.. but most importantly, _their_ child needed him.

            Natasha should have been able to find out sooner had she not so firmly believed that she was sterile. And yet, here she was, fighting to save the world and pregnant with Captain America’s child. Is it a boy, or a girl? There hadn’t been time to find out. She had planned to check with Shuri in secret—T’Challa, she knows, would remain silent about it—but the attack led by Proxima Midnight had started too soon.

            A poor guess led her to concluding that she was already two months along. It was difficult to tell considering that Natasha had been occupied dealing with other matters and there was no menstruation cycle to warn her of… A miracle, she called it. Yes, it is a miracle. Whatever super serum running through Steve’s body.. it somehow bypassed her sterilization. The serum had been so strong that, somehow, Steve had been able to impregnate her. All it had taken was one time. And that single night of passion they’d had after depriving themselves for too long had therefore led to a fruit of labor that Natasha nurtured in the pit of her belly ever since.

            Their miracle.

            And now the universe is at stake, and she has yet to tell Steve of their pregnancy.

            “Steve…” Swallowing hard, she murmurs into the comms once more, “Steve, if you can hear me... Please. I—”

            She stops.

            Her voice had been too loud against the empty backdrop of the forest. As if time had frozen suddenly.

            The first thing Natasha hears under her obsidian cage is the resounding crack of fingers snapping together. It resounds in her ears, across the lush Wakandan land, and throughout the entire universe like an echo, shaking her down to the marrow of her bones. She feels disjointed. Unhinged. Every nerve in her body is fired up with adrenaline, bones aching to move—to fight—to flee.

            Natasha’s first thought is Steve… and then the child in her womb. In a split second, her flight or fight response kicks in and she tears at her stoned restraints. Panic, fear, and something cold seeps into the fiber of her soul. Never in her life has she felt so _wrong_. Something was coming. And no one would be safe.

            Acting on her instincts, she tugs at the branch acting as a fulcrum for her entrapment, quickly rolling out as the stone cage collapses onto where she’d just been laying. Feeling slightly disoriented, Natasha slowly stands up and surveys her surroundings. She takes note of everything, assessing the situation and deducing that the enemy has already departed. Yet, the threat of danger remains, stronger and more potent than ever.

            _Something is coming..._

            Everyone seems to be scattered throughout the forest, lying behind trees or amid the foliage but she has no time to check on them. She needs to see Steve. See if he is alive or…

            The tall, emerald trees of Wakanda shiver around Natasha as a strong wind breezes through like a whisper. Mocking and disingenuous. Cold, like the icy fingers of death, and foreboding. Every hair on her body rises instantly in warning. Something is _terribly_ wrong.

            Flicking her eyes around, she tries to perceive any imminent danger. Whatever threat there is out there, it is invisible and intangible. Shapeless and without form but lethal all the same. Something they cannot hope to win against.

            “Steve.” Natasha says again in a mumble. Her feet start moving before she even knows where to go. All she knows is that she needs to find Steve because something is coming. Something awful, and a voice in the back of her mind tells Natasha that it is coming for all of them. For her. For their unborn child.

            Worn out boots pound against the forest floor, kicking up dirt as she runs in search of her beloved friend. Lover. Leader. Somewhere nearby, Okoye’s voice shouts in the hard language of Wakanda. Natasha can recognize the sound of a broken warrior beneath the resilient voice of the general. A plea for the King of Wakanda. Yet, the Black Widow does not dare to stop. Not even as fear stabs her heart with every terse breath and dread eats at her feet, pushing Natasha to keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going!

            “Sam!” Rhodey yells a few feet away, his voice fading as she keeps running. She checks behind trees, shoves aside the thick vegetation in search of… The thought of finding Steve’s body nearly makes Natasha trip on an upturned root. “Sam, where you at?!”

            The forest—no, the Earth itself is deathly still. The trees do not budge but there is a strong chill in the air. It reeks of death, yet there are no corpses to be seen.

            She runs.

            Dark clouds roll in uninvited, eclipsing what sun had still remained. An ominous rumble of thunder accompanies the darkening sky but Natasha knows it is not Thor’s doing.

            _Something is coming._

            She runs.

            And it feels like she’s running in circles, trapped in an endless loop of cold silence.

            Quiet. It is too quiet.

            And, finally, Natasha sees a few of her companions now huddled around, staring at some—oh, Vision.

            Her quick jog slows down and she lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing Steve.. turning Vision’s body onto his back. Natasha frowns at the sight of her ally, jaw slowly dropping as the realization washes over her like a bucket of iced water. What had once been a colorful being filled with life and power was now nothing more than a washed-out carcass. Black and white mixed into a horrid shade of a lifeless grey. It is a skewed shadow of the man she had once known as Vision. An insult to what he had aspired to be for so long.

            _Something is coming._

            She instinctively takes her place by Steve’s side, as she had always done every day for years already.

            Her hand draws to Steve—to touch him and make sure this was all real—that he is still real—but a strange sensation flutters in the pit of her belly and Natasha slowly touches her abdomen.

            “What is this?” Rhodey asks, brows furrowing as he turns around in his worn-out suit, looking to the others for answers. He holds his hands out in a silent demand for some sort of explanation that no one can offer. “What the hell is happening?”

            Steve sits back, panting in pain and exhaustion but nobody answers the Lieutenant Colonel.

            That strange sensation continues to flutter in Natasha’s belly and she hunches over slightly. It is uncomfortable. Out of place. Invasive.

            _Something is coming._

            “Oh, God.” Steve says aloud, filling the silence with those two words that weigh more than anything else he could ever say. Resignation and horror are set in his eyes as he stares openly at the unnatural storm building before them.

            Natasha is about to say something—to tell Cap that they need to find the others and treat the wounded—but something strange shifts in her abdomen and her mouth drops open in a soft gasp at the awful sensation.

            No. Not this. Not—

            “Steve…” Natasha whispers and he seems to hear the distress in her voice because he immediately turns to her just as she collapses to her knees. Shriveled leaves and broken twigs crunch beneath her but Natasha focuses solely on the foreign tug in her womb. Perverse and unwelcome.

            _Something is coming._

            The strange sensation persists. It feels like a piece of her is being stolen away by some unforeseen force. No matter how much Natasha tries to fight it off, it continues to gnaw away at her womb. At her core.

            “Nat, what is it?” Steve’s voice is tight with concern and his sky-blue eyes are dimmed with pain and fear. He takes her into his arms, scanning her body for any visible signs of injury. Any mortal or flesh wound he can help her with. But this is a fight that the both of them lost long ago.

            “The—The baby…” Natasha chokes out, gripping Steve’s arm with her free hand as she continues to grip her abdomen in the other. “S-Steve, the baby…”

            In the background, no one moves, not even Bruce in the Hulkbuster armor. Steve stares down at her and confusion flashes through his grim face for a microsecond before understanding rapidly sets in. His eyes tear up and Natasha can’t help but think they look like sapphire gems. Beautiful, but full of a faint sorrow, as they had been since she’d met him.

            He speaks to her in a trembling whisper, voice cracking in despair, “The.. baby?”

            It is not a question as to whose baby it is. Natasha knows he is asking what about the baby. Their baby. And she knows Steve is aware of what is happening to the baby. Age did not dull his mind one iota. No, the years of battle and deceit and hardships had sharpened his mind like a weapon. But, right now, it is doing nothing more than causing him pain. That pain only makes her eyes well up to match his.

            And Natasha can’t hold back an anguished whimper as the piece she had been fighting to keep is ripped away from her. And disappears. As if it had never existed to begin with. It leaves her feeling hollow in every way possible, and she knows what that means.

            “Our baby, Steve.” Natasha whispers back, gripping his hand tighter than ever. Tears sting at her eyes, throat burning, but Steve is already crying quietly. His own tears streak through the grime and blood staining his handsome face, leaving clean trails down his bruised cheeks. Natasha opens her mouth to whisper again, if only because she does not have any strength left in her. “Our baby is.. gone…”

            Something is coming….

            No.

            _It is already here._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if I want to expand this one-shot into a short story with several chapters. I already have several other fanfics to take care of so perhaps I might continue this if I have the time. 
> 
> What do you think? Leave this as it is or continue for more?


End file.
